


take another shot

by Marishna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Puns, College, College Student Stiles, Derek Has a Crush on Stiles, Facebook, Future Fic, M/M, Masturbation, Matchmaker Scott, McCall Pack, One Shot, Photography, Scott McCall is a Good Alpha, Texts From Last Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-26 20:51:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10794534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: It was part of Derek’s attempt to do Beacon Hills right this time, with the intention of staying for a good, long time.  Say yes more, let the small things slide more, act on his wants more…As if Scott was reading his mind he looked up at Derek who was still standing expectantly, waiting to get snacks, then over at Stiles who was still grinning, then back again at Derek with a pointed expression.Scott got good at the alpha thing, dammit.





	take another shot

**Author's Note:**

> First day of Merry Month of Masturbation! I am accepting VISUAL and/or SETTING prompts [here](http://marishna.livejournal.com/940617.html)!
> 
> This is also inspired by the prompt "the pot calling the kettle black" for a card_writing challenge at gameofcards on LJ, which was formed around [this](http://www.textsfromlastnight.com/Text-Replies-19790.html) tfln.

“No, seriously! No matter what you fuckers say I’m positive my English lit professor was a vampire! Wanna know how I know? Because during exams he was always out for blood!”

The pack collectively groaned at Stiles and he had to duck to avoid being hit with, among other things, a remote control, a handful of popcorn, and a shoe. He tossed the shoe back at Scott who slipped it back on his foot while shaking his head. 

From across the room where Derek was sitting, he shook his head but there was a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips. Stiles looked up and caught his eye and grinned at him in a way that made Derek’s heart speed up enough to draw Scott’s attention. He coughed and stood up quickly.

“Anyone need a refill? Chips?” he offered politely. 

Derek came back to Beacon Hills only a couple weeks before everyone finished college. He did it quietly, only announcing himself to Scott in hopes that he would be accepted back into the pack. After a year away with Braeden and living a (relatively) quiet life on the road he realized he missed this. He missed having a connection to his home and people like him. A family. 

For the first time in years he was clear-headed enough to be able to admit that and take steps to do something about it and when he explained all that to Scott he was welcomed home with a tight hug and an open door. 

This was their first get together as a full pack, once everyone got settled back in from school. Lydia was the last to arrive back in Beacon Hills, having flown in on the red-eye just the night before. Scott had suggested a small party to reunite instead of an official pack meeting and Stiles ran with it. 

He showed up on Derek’s doorstep the week before and Derek could sense he was ready for a fight, if necessary, to get Derek to agree to host them at the loft. He still grinned at the look on Stiles’ face when he said yes after Stiles brought up the idea in a rush. He’d taken a deep breath as if preparing to launch into a list of reasons why Derek should agree to it. 

It was part of Derek’s attempt to do Beacon Hills right this time, with the intention of staying for a good, long time. Say yes more, let the small things slide more, act on his wants more…

As if Scott was reading his mind he looked up at Derek who was still standing expectantly, waiting to get snacks, then over at Stiles who was still grinning, then back again at Derek with a pointed expression. 

Scott got good at the alpha thing, dammit. 

“I’ll take a beer if there’s more,” Danny spoke up from where he was sitting on the couch beside Lydia who nodded.

“I’ll have a glass of white wine, please.”

“Did I see a bottle of wolfsbane whiskey?” Malia asked from her seat, cross-legged on the floor. 

“I want something else, too, so I’ll come help,” Stiles offered and stood up from his chair. Derek almost said, “No, I’ve got it,” but stopped and nodded. Small steps.

“Thanks for having us,” Stiles started when they stepped to the kitchen area. “It feels good to be here.”

Derek nodded. “It does,” he agreed. “It’s good to be back and have everyone here.” He watched as Stiles made himself a drink that was more tonic than gin and raised an eyebrow at him.

Stiles shrugged. “Kind of a combo of needing to drive home tonight and too much cheap draft beer this year, I think.”

“Yeah? Lots of partying?” Derek asked as he poured Lydia’s wine.

“Not too much but enough that I’m happy if I don’t see another keg for the rest of the summer,” Stiles laughed. The sound floated around Derek’s head and then settled in his gut, fluttering there until he gave himself a shake. He tried to pick up three drinks but Stiles snorted and reached for one, fingers brushing Derek’s as the glass passed hands. 

Derek let Stiles walk ahead of him back to the sitting area and they passed out the drinks while Lydia was saying, “I swear, I only went on two dates the entire year. There are more important things to concern myself with right now, like solving the Hodge conjecture.” 

“Danny didn’t have that problem this year,” Stiles laughed, winking at him.

Danny snorted. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle a make out whore?”

The rest of the pack hooted while Stiles’ cheeks reddened and he ducked his head a bit but there was a sheepish smile on his face. Derek stood awkwardly beside the couch and had to actively stay relaxed so he didn’t crush the glass in his hand. 

“It wasn’t _that_ many people!” Stiles tried to argue weakly but then Danny was opening Facebook and showing off photos of a generous handful of people Stiles at least made out with that year. Derek didn’t closely look at the pictures but he recognized a couple pictures from Stiles’ own photo albums on his account.

Derek stayed quiet for the rest of the night, letting the pack catch up and laugh and exchange stories while he listened and watched. He felt Scott’s eyes on him more than once but he didn’t give in and stayed neutral. Once they started to leave the loft one by one he started to pick up the bit of mess they made and put the dishes in the sink to deal with the next day.

“Derek,” Scott started before he left with Kira. They were the last ones to go, following Stiles within five minutes of his departure. “Are--”

“I’m okay,” Derek cut in gently. “I swear. 

Scott gave him a half smile. “Don’t close the door.”

Derek wasn’t sure what he meant at first because when he left Scott did, indeed, slide the door closed behind him. He shook his head and puttered around the loft for a few minutes to put things away. His curiosity got the best of him, however, and soon he was sitting on the couch with his laptop on the coffee table searching through Stiles’ photos.

He clicked back through the one album Stiles had up from college on his “public” account, the one that, like the rest of the pack, he had for outward appearances. In older albums, there were the occasional pics of everyone else but long ago everyone agreed that pack business had no place on Facebook, no matter how innocent or innocuous. 

Instead, Stiles put up pictures of friends he made in college, of himself at parties, barbeques, and car washes where he was smiling, occasionally shirtless, and always around people who were incredibly attractive. In a lot of the photos, those attractive people were wall over Stiles, hugging him or kissing his cheek or, in a couple photos, outright leering at him while Stiles appeared oblivious. 

He wondered how many of those people were his makeout buddies. He wondered what would have to be different in their lives for Derek to have that distinction. 

He flipped through the pictures over and over until they became a blur and all he could see was Stiles and his lanky, slim muscled body, strong hands, full lips--

With a snarl Derek pushed off the couch and stalked across the room to his sleeping area, sectioned off by temporary room dividers until he could get some actual walls up to make a proper bedroom. He shoved his jeans down and kicked them under the bed while he dug through his bedside stand for lube.

There hadn’t been anyone since Braeden and they didn’t exactly have a honeymoon period with their relationship. But since returning to Beacon Hills and especially since seeing Stiles again he’d jerked off every day, sometimes twice. He felt like he was a teenager again and discovering porn for the first time. 

He stood in front of his bed with his underwear shoved down, bunched around his thighs, and wrapped his slick hand around his cock. He stroked himself slowly at first while he replayed the photos of Stiles over and over in his mind. He tried to imagine it was Stiles’ long-fingered hand around him, teasing him slowly to drive Derek crazy. He let his eyes slip closed and widened his stance to brace himself.

He pushed his t-shirt up a bit and dragged his nails across his abdomen, rising higher with each pass until he got to his nipples. He pulled on one with a gasp, twisting it a bit as he let go. He pictured Stiles’ mouth biting lightly at him, licking his way down to Derek’s groin where he’d tease along the sensitive skin there using tongue and teeth to heighten the sensation.

Derek twisted on his cock at the same time as he ran his nails over his chest, thumbed over the head on every downstroke. He was already so close but he wished for more--hands, fingers, lips, harsh panting to match his own raspy breathing. He wished for Stiles and… just Stiles.

His grin, his blush, his open, loud laugh filling the empty silence of the loft, hovering over Derek in bed before sinking down on Derek---

“Fuck, _Stiles_ ,” Derek choked out as he came over his hand, hips jerking. His legs shook and his abdomen tightened through it, leaving a mess on the floor. He stumbled back a bit, righting himself while his chest heaved and his heart raced. 

It took a minute or so before he could walk without his legs giving out. He kicked his briefs down and padded to the bathroom to wash quickly. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and brushed his teeth to get ready for bed. 

He remembered his laptop in the living room and went to close it for the night but as he crossed the room he saw a sticky note on his screen. Derek froze instantly and listened closely for any disturbances, then scented the air.

“Stiles,” Derek murmured, his heart pounding again. Slowly he approached his laptop and gently pulled the sticky note off. 

_Came back for my phone but you were busy ;p Check your FB msgs._

Derek heard rushing in his ears as he slowly sat down and logged into his account. One new message.

He clicked Stiles’ name and waited with his breath held.

Two pictures. 

One, a selfie of Stiles who took the picture angled so he was sticking his tongue out at the camera while Derek’s naked back could be seen behind the divider to his bedroom. Derek’s cheeks flushed at the thought that Stiles was there the whole time and knew exactly what he was doing and why.

He scrolled down slowly.

Two, a picture of… Derek blinked.

Stiles’ dick.

Stiles’ erect dick that he held in his own hand, thumb curling over the head where a drop of pre-come threatened to fall. It was taken from the side like Stiles was holding his phone down by his hip and the background was familiar.

Derek heard a noise outside his door, a shuffling. He stood slowly and crossed the room, his cock stirring in his sweatpants. 

He paused for a second, fingers curled around the handle. With a deep breath, he pushed it open.


End file.
